


Captain and Mr Jones

by fizzyblogic (phizzle)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, WIP Amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-23
Updated: 2011-02-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 16:25:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/fizzyblogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm not sure when I wrote this — probably 2009, but I'm not completely sure. Anyway, it was going to be this badass Mr & Mrs Smith AU, with explosions and assassinations and lots of weapons, but this is all I could get out of my brain. Ah well, there's porn, it's all good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captain and Mr Jones

Ianto looked left, right, front, and saw a severely attractive man in a long blue coat over by the bar. A soldier asked, “Are you alone?”

“He’s with me,” Ianto said, stepping forward and indicating an escape route. “Shall we continue discussing business?” At an answering nod, he led them into the next room, the soldiers letting them pass.

The door closed behind them, and they both automatically pressed their ears to it. “Thanks. I’m Jack,” the man whispered.

“Ianto,” he returned. “I think they’re gone.”

Jack, who had artfully mussed hair and an American accent, gave him a thousand-watt grin. “Wanna go get a drink?”

Ianto thought about it for zero point eight five of a second. “Yeah, okay then.”

“So,” Captain Jack Harkness said, half a bottle of some very interestingly-coloured alcohol later, “what do you do, Ianto Jones?”

“Houses,” Ianto replied. “Real estate, I suppose you’d say. Just immigrated to America about a year ago.”

“Really? Where in America?”

“New York.” Ianto took a mouthful and swallowed. “You?”

“New York,” Jack grinned at him. “Small world, huh?”

“Yeah.” Teasing, he added, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Jack studied him over the rim of his glass. Ianto was about to ask if he had something on his face when Jack said, “Want to come back to my place?”

Ianto considered it for a full and entire second before he answered, “Yup.”

The sex was almost alarmingly good. Jack knew angles and moves that Ianto had never even thought about trying, rhythms and paces no human should be able to maintain, and when Jack came, Ianto’s whole body felt it. He came harder than he’d ever come in his life, twelve seconds later, and collapsed onto the sheets. Their limbs tangled and their chests heaved in unison. “Oh. Oh wow,” Ianto panted, desperately clawing his breath back.

“Yeah. Phew.” Jack had that enormous grin again, taking over half of his face and lighting up the room. “We should do this again some time.”

“My flight leaves in the morning,” Ianto pointed out.

“So does mine. Seven thirty, to JFK?”

“That’s the one.”

The look on Jack’s face changed, then; he was still smiling just as wide, but it was less a self-satisfied shit-eating expression and more a happy softness. “I guess I’m taking you home.”

Looking at him, Ianto felt something shift in his chest. A piece of himself, long broken, fused back into place. “I suppose you are.”

They lay there for a few minutes, Ianto’s left leg going numb under Jack’s body, his right leg still hooked over a hip, Jack’s arms holding him close. Jack moved the one Ianto wasn’t lying on and brushed his fingertips over Ianto’s chest. The skin tingled where he touched it.

“God you smell good,” Ianto breathed, eyes sinking closed. He buried his nose in Jack’s neck and inhaled, snaking his tongue out to lick.

“Do I taste good, too?” Jack asked, sounding amused.

“Shut up.” Ianto didn’t move, just swiped his tongue over the skin in front of him. He felt Jack shiver. Very slowly, very lightly, Ianto tilted his head and pressed a line of kisses along Jack’s jaw, chin to where it disappeared under his ear. Tiny sounds escaped Jack’s throat with each fourth kiss, until Ianto reached his earlobe and abruptly tugged.

Jack hissed in his breath. “Fuck me, Ianto Jones,” he exhaled, sounding utterly desperate, and Ianto groaned. His half-hard cock stood completely to attention, and then there was just tugging and pulling and rolling and slicking, punctuated by Jack’s whispered, “Fuck _yeah_ fuck.” Ianto rolled them until he was on top, Jack spread his legs out and flattened the small of his back against the mattress, and Ianto slid inside him. Jack bit his lip and started to move, just as Ianto adjusted his angle and thrust in once, hard, and stayed there.

He turned his attention back to Jack’s earlobe, flicking his tongue out at it and tugging, while rolling his hips around in small, smooth motions. “Fuck,” Jack panted, “fuck, _please_ , just. _Please_.”

Ianto pulled him closer by the hips and drove in deeper, as deep as he could go. He began the rolling motions again. Jack’s eyes rolled back and closed.

“There’s something you don’t know about me,” Ianto murmured into his ear. He kept his voice low so Jack had to stop making tiny frustrated sounds to hear it. For a moment there was no sound but their panting breaths, and then Ianto continued, voice still low, “I can keep doing this for hours.”

A noise that sounded like _hhnnnnynnhhh_ came out of Jack’s mouth. “You,” he panted, “you — you _bastard_.”

Ianto rolled his hips harder, faster, then back to the slow rhythm. “You’re not the only man in this room who can fuck until you see stars.”

“Yeah? Well I can see entire constellations, now please, just — fuck.”

Ianto trailed the tip of his nose along Jack’s neck, biting at the skin just enough to feel. “Oh but I am.”

A lot of air and some incoherent noise was all the answer he got.

“Still want to take me home?” Ianto asked, heart suddenly beating even faster, even closer to his ears.

“I am never letting you out of my _sight_ ,” Jack moaned, shifting his hips for an angle so deep Ianto wondered how it was possible. “Ohgodohgodohgod,” Jack groaned, and Ianto decided he’d had time enough. Pulling out, he slammed back in, same angle, same depth. Jack arched. Ianto slammed in again, setting up a rhythm, and all the sound seemed to leave Jack at once until the only sound was the smack of Ianto’s balls against Jack, and their staccato breaths.

Jack’s back was almost arched in two by the time Ianto wrapped one hand, very firmly and decicively, around Jack’s cock — not neglected up until now, but friction from proximity is nothing on a good firm stroking — and began moving it. “Yaaaaaaaa,” Jack cried, hands scrabbling for him, and then he yelled, “ _Ianto_ ,” and came. Ianto kept going, not quite there yet, and on each thrust Jack twitched through his afterglow. “Come on,” he started muttering, reaching for Ianto’s hips, sliding his hands around to grasp at his buttocks. It felt good.

“Uhn,” Ianto grunted, thrusting in again, and out of nowhere Jack held Ianto’s face, one hand on each side of it, and licked a stripe up his neck. “Christ,” Ianto yelped, and felt his thighs relax completely. He came suddenly, eyes squeezed shut, seeing fireworks.

They fell back into a tangled sweaty heap, and neither spoke for about twenty minutes. “Shit,” Jack said at last, “I will give you my number in the morning and if you don’t call me within forty-eight hours I will hunt you down and kill you.”

“Sounds fair,” Ianto decided. “Okay if I sleep now?”

“Yes,” Jack replied, so Ianto did.

*

“Oh hey, you’re back, how was the trip?” Toshiko smiled her lovely smile at him.

“I met someone,” Ianto answered instantly. “Tall, handsome, works for the NYPD. Captain Jack Harkness. Oh, the job went fine, too. I filed a report.”

“Captain, eh?” She looked kind of amused.

“He’s ex-military. Bet he looked smashing in the uniform.” He winked at her and switched his computer on.

“Are you going to see him again?” Toshiko never really said it, but she was an incurable romantic.

“Dinner tomorrow night. Unless,” he tapped a few keys, “this next job goes on late.”

She glanced over at his screen. “One target, silencer, shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Well,” Ianto took a few notes, “it’s always the quiet ones. Best to be prepared.”

“Isn’t that the company motto?” She managed to roll her eyes and curve half her mouth in a smile without it looking like it was more than one expression.

“I thought that was _Bill first, shoot later_ ,” Ianto replied. He liked making her laugh.

*

“You’re not the first Welsh person I’ve met on this continent,” Jack said. His hands were folded above his plate, nothing but sauce left. Ianto still had some pasta to go.

“Oh?” It felt like he had some sauce on his chin, but a quick tongue-test revealed it was only on his lip.

“That’s distracting,” Jack observed. “Yeah,” returning to the subject, “this woman I work with, Gwen. She’s from Cardiff.”

“Strange, that’s where I’m from. Originally. I moved to London after I left school.”

“Huh.” Jack smiled a quarter of a smile. “Small world.”

“Isn’t it just?” Ianto took a sip of his wine.

“On her first day, I just walked up to her and said ‘Hi, I’m your new best friend’, and you should have seen the look on her face. I thought she’d punch me.”

“You fancy her,” Ianto stated.

Jack shrugged. “She’s married.”

“You didn’t deny it.” Ianto couldn’t stop a small smile from playing across his lips.

Jack was looking more and more amused, a slow and genuine smile spreading. “Got no reason to.”

“Is that so?”  



End file.
